The Night of the ABCs
by penstroker
Summary: An easy mission goes horribly wrong when a natural disaster hits a small California town. Based on a true event.


THE NIGHT OF THE ABCs…

March 16, 1872

Lone Pine, California

"Artie, Artie!" exclaimed Jim West from the opposite side of the debris filled room. Hearing no response, concern spurred Jim to struggle once again to remove the rubble that both restricted even basic movement and prevented him from checking on his eerily silent partner.

Both men had jumped at what seemed to be a plum assignment; to help escort a large Army payroll on a trek to some of California's smaller military bases. After leaving a share of the money with the commander at Fort Independence, the agents took advantage of the waning daylight to ride the sixteen miles to Lone Pine. Too small to have tourist accommodations, West and Gordon settled in for the night in a spare room at the rear of the general store. They hoped to get an early start on the 154 mile journey to Fort Irwin, their last stop before rendezvousing with the Wanderer. The two soldiers who had accompanied them since the start of the tour stayed in a boarding house nearby.

Carrying such large sums of money made both agents extremely cautious. Even though the sum had dwindled, they did not deviate from their established pattern. They were careful not to call too much attention to themselves and after a modest dinner with the storekeeper's family, they retired to their room, making sure the window and door were bolted shut.

Deep in slumber, Artie didn't feel the slight tremors that woke his lightly sleeping partner. Jim realized the danger even before the exclamation was heard from the street.

"Earthquake!"

Fear and adrenaline coursing through his veins, Jim tried to propel himself off the narrow bed, just as a section of adobe wall came crashing down. Unfortunately, he couldn't escape as fast as he had hoped and it fell onto his retreating form. Lying on his stomach, his legs were wedged tightly between the slab of wall and the remains of the wooden bed frame. His circulation was restricted, but nothing appeared to be broken, for which Jim was very thankful.

Gritting his teeth and marshalling all his strength Jim tried unsuccessfully time and again to free his trapped limbs. He could see Artie, unconscious on the other side of the room, blood oozing from a cut on his forehead, apparently the victim of falling pieces of adobe.

"Help, Help!" The calls resounded from different areas of town. Jim surmised that if this building were any indication, there were probably people trapped all over Lone Pine. He could only hope that the soldiers that had accompanied them from Fort Independence had escaped injury and would have been astute enough to ride back for assistance. Many strong able bodied men would be needed to help with the rescue effort.

Instead of continuing with his futile attempts to free himself, Jim turned his attention to rousing his partner. Propping on his forearms, he was able to spy several small pieces of debris within reach. He pulled several to him and began chucking them at Artemus.

Just as he hurled the last available piece, he was rewarded with a groan from his target. Artie's eyes fluttered open, seemingly unfocused on his surroundings. Jim noticed he touched his head tentatively, with a small amount of dried blood sticking to his fingertips.

"Kind of you to join the party," Jim teased as he watched his friend rise unsteadily from the floor. He was relieved to see Artie shuffling towards him, albeit slowly. He appeared to comprehend Jim's predicament as he began sifting through the rubble, searching for something to help free the younger agent's legs.

Leveraging a long slat from his shattered wooden bed frame under the piece of adobe wall, Artie was able to lift it long enough for Jim to pull his legs from their snare. Reaching for the outstretched hand, he stood up gingerly as blood rushed back into his lower limbs.

Making their way to a large hole in the back wall, Jim was concerned to see Artie's pallor and strained features. He couldn't help but notice the sway in his step as they cleared a path to freedom.

Now outside, the duo was able to comprehend the scope of the damage. Almost every building for as far as the eye could see was in shambles. Luckily for them, the roof above them had not totally collapsed as it had in other parts of the multi-room building. They could hear faint calls for help from the storekeeper's family, trapped beneath the rubble towards the front of the store.

Organizing the milling townspeople became a top priority. Jim soon lost visual contact with his partner, though he could still occasionally hear the familiar voice in the distance. He was relieved to see a detachment from Fort Independence arriving, led by one of the two guards from their assignment. Jim was more than happy to turn the rescue effort over to the commander and join in with the soldiers to search for survivors and victims.

Pulling a child's lifeless body from the wreckage of her home, Jim stopped for a moment to speak some words of comfort to her distraught parents and siblings. He knew this would only be the first of many such conversations he would have tonight.

"Quick mister," a little towheaded boy panted out as he ran up to Jim, "your friend collapsed and Doc sent me to find you." Following him to the church sanctuary, where the injured had been laid out on the pews, Jim's silent plea was that he himself would not be in need of consolation tonight.

"Rather lucky I'd say," Doctor Randolph informed Jim, "Mr. Gordon is suffering from a moderate concussion, but he'll need better care than I'll be able to give him for the next day or so. Someone will need to wake him every two hours to make sure he doesn't slip into a coma."

Sizing up the situation, Jim mentally catalogued the available options: leave Artie, at the risk that he might fall into an irreversible coma or curtail his own rescue efforts to sit with him. His heart was torn as he tried to balance his need to help in the rescue effort with the grief he would feel if due to his inaction, he lost his partner permanently.

"Tell me what to do," Jim requested, "I'll be glad to help in whatever way I can."

Usually a man of action, Jim chaffed by Artie's bedside. He would get up occasionally to stretch his still tender legs and to assist with the other patients. It was gratifying that his partner appeared to be responding correctly each of the designated times that Jim woke him.

Victims of the disaster kept pouring in as families from the outlying areas brought them to the church for treatment. Luckily, the Army doctor rode in bringing a wagon of much needed medical supplies, bandages and a supply of cots. He and Doc Randolph consulted on many of those more seriously hurt, while a small corps of women tended the walking wounded.

Wearily sitting back down, Jim consulted his watch, noting that two hours had passed since he had last roused his partner. Grasping Artie's right arm, he began to gently shake him awake, for what he hoped was the last time.

"..X, Y, Z," growled Artie a few minutes later, "Are you satisfied? How am I supposed to get any rest when you keep waking me up?"

"You're going to be fine," Jim predicted with a chuckle, relieved that his partner's spirit seemed to be returning. Artie had been silent for far too long, but was now able to show his annoyance.

"Zip it Jim," retorted Artemus testily, "but thanks," he murmured with more contrition. He drifted back to sleep, secure in his unshakable belief that Jim West would be there when he woke, as he always had been and Artie fervently prayed, always would be.

The End

Note: This setting for this story is based in fact. An earthquake struck this area in the early morning of March 16, 1872 and destroyed 60 of the 80 buildings in Lone Pine. Twenty six people were killed, including Alice Meysan, the daughter of the town's storekeeper, Charles Meysan. He, his wife and ten children lived in the store, which was made of adobe. There is a wall still standing today from that structure.

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